


Fire when I'm cold

by makesometime



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (to be safe), Canon Asexual Character, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-Penetrative Sex, Sex-Favorable Zolf Smith, Sharing Body Heat, Telepathic Bond, Tent Sex, episode 179 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28046499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: Oscar's chilled after a night's watch in Svalbard. Zolf's got some ideas for how to solve that.Carter's... there.
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 22
Kudos: 78





	Fire when I'm cold

**Author's Note:**

> Well I did promise Rome that I'd do something more explicit with the telepathic bond issues I hinted at in my previous fic. Here you go ya filthy animals.
> 
> Thank you Jo for reading this over for me when I was complaining about hating it <3

Oscar ducks into the tent with a sigh, tying it shut behind him. He sits on his backside in momentary silence once he’s out of the bitter chill of their campsite, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around himself.

“Cold?”

Oscar turns at the sound of the voice from behind him, smiling to himself. “ _Yes_.” He says fondly. “How did you guess?”

“C’mere.” Zolf says quietly. “Who’s on watch now?”

Oscar tugs off his coat and boots quickly, shoving them to one side and finding the edge of the pile of furs to crawl under. He seeks out Zolf’s heat like a moth to a flame, letting out a soft little grumble as he curls into Zolf’s chest.

“Carter.” He feels the curve of Zolf’s smile against his forehead. “Why?”

“Had a few ideas for how to warm you up.”

He pulls back, peering through the darkness to look at Zolf’s face, knowing that Zolf can see him clear as day. “Oh? Don’t stop there, darling.”

“He on his own?” 

Zolf knows as well as Oscar does that they’re in a small enough group here that they only need one person on watch - he’ll be the one taking over in a few hours, after all. But Oscar expects that what he really wants to do is hear it said.

“He is.”

Zolf grins, leaning in and running his mouth over Oscar’s pulse. “Good.”

Oscar feels the uptick in his heartbeat and sends a silent apology out beyond the tent’s limits, knowing that even this is enough to make Carter aware of what’s about to happen. He shivers at the pass of Zolf’s hand down his belly, into the waistband of his pants and down around him in one smooth movement.

Zolf’s good at this now, _knows_ him. Knows that the combination of the calluses on his hands and the thick strength of his fingers can make Oscar get fully hard in moments. It thrills through him, the reality of being so familiar to his favourite person, and he shifts his hips into the slow pull of Zolf’s hand with a smile hidden against Zolf’s chest.

“You think he can feel it?” Zolf murmurs. “The way I take you apart?”

Oscar gasps, feeling the solid press of Zolf’s thumb to the base of his head, over and over, making the heat in the pit of his belly grow. “If he can he’s a lucky man.”

Zolf growls, and Oscar knows there’s something about this whole thing that plays havoc with his possessive streak. He wants to _own_ Oscar (and, truly, Oscar is hardly opposed) but he also enjoys that Carter knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“He’s not happy about it.” Oscar says. “If that helps.”

Zolf smirks, his grip tightening. Apparently yes, it does help.

Oscar nuzzles in even closer, even though it traps Zolf’s hand between their bodies at such an angle that he can barely flex his wrist. Oscar reaches up to tangle one hand in his lover’s hair and gives a well-timed tug that allows him to get at Zolf’s throat.

“You wanna do this yourself, huh?”

 _That_ thought makes him snarl into Zolf’s skin. “Well... if you’d be amenable.”

Zolf just snorts, letting go and shoving his trousers down a little so that the heat of Oscar’s cock nudges against the skin of his inner thighs. “Go on then.”

Oscar shivers through the sensation, rocking his hips and groaning at the knowledge that he’s painting Zolf’s skin with his slick, covering the lovely smooth expanse that he so loves to kiss and suck at when he’s on his way to swallowing down Zolf’s cock. 

It’s warm and it’s oddly sexy to rut against Zolf this way. There’s a low level simmering tension right at the back of his skull that _feels_ like resentment and only spurs him on. If he’s going to ruin Carter’s night, he’s going to make sure he does it _well_.

Zolf makes a sound of interest when he thrusts and grinds with greater intent, fingers oddly tender as they comb through Oscar’s hair. “You putting on a show for me or for Carter?”

Oscar groans, circling his hips. “Yes.”

With a hum, Zolf puts a heavy hand at the base of his spine. “Already got _me_.”

“Then that makes my job significantly easier.” 

It’s always lovely when Zolf touches him, but this sort of feigned disengagement gets him in an entirely different way. His lover all calm and warm and _present_ , allowing him to _take_ his pleasure… Oscar sighs into the skin behind Zolf’s ear, feeling himself throb, otherwise untouched, against Zolf’s thigh.

“Feel good?” Zolf asks, all warm breath and happiness against his ear in turn.

Oscar does his best not to whine. “I think you know it does, love.”

“Good. You’re doing so good for me, Oscar.”

“Oh, _now_ you crack out the praise.”

Zolf grins, running his teeth over the shell of Oscar’s ear. It makes him shudder quite nicely, the heat chasing all the way down his spine. He arches, panting and moving through Zolf’s whispered encouragement, feeling the gentle submission float over his connection with Carter and be met with embarrassed surprise, and... acceptance?

Oscar grins, rocking barely a few more times before he’s coming with a gasp of Zolf’s name, folding himself into his lover’s embrace with a quiet laugh.

Eventually, he waves a weary hand and feels Zolf smile at the prestidigitation, hands reaching down to tuck him away and pull up Zolf’s trousers once more. “I feel like I could sleep for hours.” He yawns, tightening his hold.

“Good thing you’ve not got the next watch then huh?”

Oscar smiles. “Don’t be too rude to Howard when you swap.”

Zolf’s about to speak when there’s a thud against the top of the tent, and another, and a third that skims just past. Oscar laughs, blearily watching the slow slide of a poorly-formed snowball down the side of the tent.

“Yeah. Fair. Think he’s suffered enough tonight.”


End file.
